Distraught
by Mystrothedefender
Summary: Arthur struggles to keep himself sane after the death of his wife. FACE family.
1. Chapter 1

**Here, have a sad story, I hope you like it. **

Through the past few years Arthur's dreams had become more hazy, blurry, he could no longer make out faces or keep track of the dream's plot. But he was happy, and he knew he didn't want to wake up. He couldn't remember what was so bad about his waking life, but he was happy here.

The colours were vivid, the smells and sounds were pleasant, everything seemed perfect. There was a blanket under a tree and a beautiful girl waiting for him, the girl of his dreams, the mother of his children, and there was always so much laughter.

He felt his chest tighten, the vision blurring and turning black, his chest tightening and an odd dizziness filling his head as he began to wake up, he felt the happiness drain from his mind, the feeling giving way to confusion.

He blinked himself awake, his head throbbing and his mouth sour, he sat up slowly, looking at the space on the bed beside him. "Am-Amelia..?" he whispered, frowning. He felt her side of the bed, it was stone cold, it hadn't been slept in. He felt a pang in his gut, he closed his eyes and focussed. She was still in the house, she had to be, he strained his hearing, sure he would be able to hear her.

There were noises coming from the other room, but they weren't her.

If they weren't her, then who were they?

He forced his legs off the edge of the bed, willing himself to move his heavy limbs.

He looked down and frowned. There was something different about himself, but he couldn't put his finger on it. The soft spinning of the room stopped him from concentrating.

A loud knock came from the bedroom door, Arthur's head snapping up at the sound. The door squeaked open before he could say anything, and a small boy walked in.

"Daddy," the boy said with a smile, "Are you coming out for breakfast today? Francis is teaching Mattie to make pancakes."

Arthur frowned down at him, confused, "Alfred…?" he looked the boy up and down, "You've gotten big. How old are you?" he asked slowly.

Alfred laughed softly, "I'm 9, silly daddy," he said, continuing to smile, "Is your memory being weird again?" he reached out to pat Arthur's head.

Arthur shook him off, giving Alfred a soft, faked smile, "What do you mean? …Alfred where's your mother, is she with Francis and Matthew?"

Alfred's smile fell from his face, and he withdrew his hand quickly, "Oh…" he looked down at his feet, "It is being really weird again. I have to get Francis."

Arthur frowned, "Alfred? What are you doing?" He forced himself to try and stand up, he couldn't balance correctly, and flopped back onto the bed with a loud 'humph'.

Alfred gasped and stepped back as Arthur tried to get to his feet, he looked back towards the door, as if readying himself to run. He let out a soft sigh as Francis entered the room with Matthew held tight in his arms.

"Alfred, mon cher, I told you to leave your father alone," Francis said softly, walking into the room and stopping at Alfred's side, running his fingers through Alfred's hair, "Your food is ready, go back into the kitchen, have as much as you want."

The child squirmed slightly, "But Francis I-"

"Go on," Francis said sternly, "We'll be out in a moment."

Alfred whined softly and left, looking back as he closed the door behind him.

Francis swallowed hard as he came to the edge of Arthur's bed, sitting on the edge and bouncing Matthew in his arms, "Arthur, do you feel like getting out of bed today? Matthew and I made pancakes."

Arthur glared at the child in his arms, "Matthew… That's not Matthew, Matthew's a baby. What are you talking about Francis. Why can't I move? Where's Amelia?"

Arthur frowned and watched as Francis practically jumped from the bed, holding Matthew away from him, "Oh, I see," he said, the tone of his voice changing.

"That's not Matthew," Arthur insisted, "…It can't be."

Francis nodded, "I assure you mon amie, it is him. He is 4 years old, do you not remember?"

Arthur stared at the boy, frowning softly, "My Matthew is 4? But…I…"

"Oncle" the boy in his arms squeaked, "J'ai faim…"

Francis bounced him softly, hushing him, "I know, little one, I know, give me a minute."

Arthur grit his teeth, feeling his hands curl into fists, "Was that French?" he asked, aghast, "You're making him speak French?" he growled, "Where's Amelia? She wouldn't let you do this, where is she?"

Francis exhaled slowly, frowning softly through despair, "Arthur… Je suis desole… I never meant to teach him it, he just picked it up."

"Stop speaking it in front of him then, you foul man! Where is Amelia? Why won't you tell me where she is?" Arthur felt himself fuming, his face growing hot and tears pricking his eyes.

Francis exhaled slowly, his frame softening, "…She's dead Arthur, she died when Matthew was born. You know this…"

A breath caught in Arthur's throat, and immediately he felt sick, his mouth hung open as memories suddenly sparked in his mind. Slowly he turned his head, frowning at Francis, "Get out," he said slowly, "Get out of here Francis, I don't want to talk to you."

Francis groaned and bit his lip, looking down at Matthew, "Matthew, let's get you your breakfast ok?" He looked back at Arthur, "I'll come back in a moment to help you dress."

Arthur shook his head, "Don't bother," he spat, "I doubt I'll be leaving the room today. Just get the fuck out of here Francis."

**I hope you enjoyed it, please leave a review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**part 2**

Alfred looked up at Francis as he walked in and placed Matthew in his highchair. He swallowed hard, looking at the pile of pancakes in front of him, he didn't really want to eat it, he wasn't really hungry, but he knew that if he didn't eat then Francis would give him that look, the one that said 'I know you're not happy, but I'm doing the best I can.'

Francis smiled softly at him, cutting up Matthew's pancakes and chuckling as the small boy began to eat them, smearing maple syrup over his face and his plate. "Alfred, are you going to eat?" Francis asked softly.

Alfred nodded, "Yes Francis, I am," he looked down at the mound of food, wishing that the sight of it didn't sicken him, pancakes were one of his favourite breakfast foods. "…Why is daddy's memory being weird?" he asked quietly, knowing that the question would make Francis uncomfortable but being unable to stop himself asking.

"Uh," Francis sighed, sounding a little distracted as he focussed on Matthew's food, "It just is sometimes, he's very ill, Alfred. He can't help it."

Alfred chewed his lip, shifting n his chair, "I heard shouting last night, you were telling daddy he was ill because he drinks so much."

Francis nodded, "Drinking is how he deals with his illness, but it's not like medicine so it doesn't work."

"Will he die like mommy did?" he asked almost absently, finally picking up his fork and eating his food.

Francis frowned and shook his head, "No of course not Alfred, don't be silly," he glanced away, "I hope not at least." He cleared his throat, "You're papa's going to be with you for as long as he can, he does want to help you, he just gets mixed up sometimes."

Alfred huffed slightly, "Sometimes I wish he would, so that he can be with mommy, and he won't be confused anymore."

Francis let out a half-gasp, "Alfred, how can you say that? You should never wish death on anyone, not for any reason and especially not your own father." He huffed and shook his head, "Just.. be quiet and eat your food."

Alfred looked up at him sadly, eating the last of his pancakes, "… I think it would be good for him to see her."

Francis smiled softly, knowing the child meant well, "He's not ready yet, it'll just make him more confused, you know how angry he gets when he's confused… We could go and see her? I think that'd be nice. You can tell her that I taught you to bake cookies, we could take her some of the left over ones, I think she'd enjoy them."

Alfred smiled widely and nodded, "Yeah!" he squeaked happily, "I think she'd like them."

Francis nodded, biting his lip at the boy's enthusiasm, "Genial, go and get dressed and we'll go out."

Francis pulled Matthew from his high seat, "You hear that young man? We're going to see your mother today."

Matthew grinned happily, "Bon, I like talking to mummy."

Francis nodded and wiped the boy's face, placing him on the floor. "Go and find Alfred and he'll help you dress, I have to go and talk with your papa, ok."

He watched the boy run off, turning towards Arthur's room again, the smile dropping from his face as he knocked on the door, "Arthur, I'm coming in, I'm going to help you change. You don't have to leave the bed but you can't stay in your pyjamas all day."

He pushed the door open before hearing an answer, seeing Arthur curled up on he bed and shuddering slightly, "…Oh, Arty," he frowned as he came to him, running his hand up his side, "You know you really don't make this easy." He exhaled slowly and pulled back the covers, "Come on, get up. Your children and I are going to the cemetery so I don't have time to bath you today, but I am going to dress you, sit up."

Arthur groaned slightly as he sat up, "F-Francis? I though I told you to leave."

Francis coughed slightly, "I will do after you're dressed, and after I brush your teeth… I'm taking the boys out for an hour or so ok? Would you like me to put a film on for you? The time machine? You always used to like that film."

Arthur shook his head, "No, no I don't want to. Can't I go back to sleep, I don't want to…" he groaned slightly, "I told you to leave," he said loudly, trying to shake Francis away from him.

Francis stood and walked to the wardrobe, opening it and sighing, "How about blue today?" he smiled as he pulled out a light blue shirt, showing it to Arthur, "You always liked blue."

Arthur whined, looking at the clothing as if it were the most terrifying thing he'd seen, "No I… No! Francis put it back, stop touching my things," he insisted, moving to get out of the bed, every twitch of his muscles making him feel sick.

Francis frowned at him, taking the opportunity to pull the shirt over his head, covering the vest the man had slept in. He smiled softly, "There, you look as smart as you did your last day of college. Remember the party we went to, you threw up all over that poor man's car."

Arthur flopped back onto the bed, his head spinning as he stared down at his shirt, "…I remember," he drawled out, frowning up at Francis, "You were meant to drive me home but you left with some slut.. A-Amy had to drive me home."

"… She hated when you called her Amy, she hated how you pronounced it."

Arthur nodded, "She… She likes Amelia, because it sounds like a fairy-tale." He lifted the shirt to his face, pressing his palms into his eyes. "Tell me she's not dead, please, this is just a bad dream and one day I'll wake up."

Francis swallowed hard, shaking his head, "I can't Arthur, I keep having to tell you. She is gone, I'm sorry, but it's true, she's not coming back."

Arthur growled, taking the lamp from his bedside table and throwing it at his friend, "Then get out!" he screeched, forcing himself to his feet again, "Get the fuck out I never want to see you again!"

**Please leave a review **


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3 finally, if you want another make sure to tell me because I find this kinda emotionally draining to write and I won't do it unless I'm nudged. x))**

Matthew clasped to Francis' chest as they walked to the cemetery, looking around for the headstone he knew to be his mothers, the yellowish white marble headstone with the pot of blue flowers placed in front.

"Mummy," he cried out, smiling and waving at the headstone as it entered his view.

Francis placed him on the floor, "That's right mon cherie," he cooed, "Go and say hello."

The man's smile fell as the youngest boy ran to the stone and hugged it. "Alfred," he said to the other child, looking down at the boy by his side, "Say hello to your mother, I'm sure she's missed you."

Alfred waved at the headstone, "Hi mommy," he said softly, sitting at the edge of the grave's outline, looking down at the few pieces of paper he'd brought.

"You want to show her your report card Alfred?" Francis asked, sitting at his side.

Alfred nodded, biting his lip softly, "I will when Mattie's done talking."

Francis nodded, looking over at the smaller boy as he jabbered at the headstone. He was usually a very quiet boy but bringing him here brought out the chatty side of him. It was like he saved up all his opinions for his visits here.

Francis wrapped his arm around Alfred's shoulders, pulling him close and resting his chin on Alfred's head, "She'd be so proud of you Alfie, she really would."

Alfred nodded, looking between the headstone and the card in his hand, "I know uncle Francis, daddy said so too."

"When did you show your father?" Francis asked in surprise, lifting his head and smiling softly.

"Yesterday," Alfred said softly, "He was having a good day yesterday..." he looked up at him, "Why does daddy have to have so many bad days? They're getting worse."

"It's because of how much he drinks," Francis tried to explain, frowning softly, "It will get worse until he stops, but he won't stop."

Alfred huffed softly, bringing his knees up to his chin and wrapping his arms around himself and watching Matt natter away, spewing a mix of French and English sentences.

Matt talked to the headstone, his voice heightening as he giggled, reciting the story of his first day of preschool and the new friends he'd made and that one boy he didn't like because he didn't like pancakes.

Once he'd finished his story he made his way across the grave, sitting at Francis' side and hugging his arm tight, burying his head into the man's arm.

"Uncle?" Matthew squeaked against his sleeve, "Can we have a mummy story?"

Francis nodded smally, "Of course you can Mattie," he pulled him closer, nuzzling against him and rubbing his side. "Uh... how about..." he chewed his lip, trying to think of an age appropriate story. "When she met your daddy, I've not told you that story in a while."

The boys nodded in unison, the older man pulling them close, "Well it's funny. Me and your daddy were roommates in college, and we went to a party with your mummy, I was meant to take your daddy home after the party, but I went home with a girl, so mummy took him home, and they spent the night together talking."

"And then I was born," Alfred said with a soft giggle, smiling up at Francis.

Francis shook his head, "No, you came years after, after your mummy and daddy got married."

Matthew looked between them, "When did I come..?"

"5 years after Alfred... when she was ill," he shook his head, "Best not to talk about that bit."

Alfred frowned at Matthew, letting out a small huff, "Stories about mommy always make me sad at the end."

Francis nodded, giving Alfred's head a soft kiss, "You wanted to show your mother your report card?"

Alfred nodded, holding out his card. "She can't see it Alfred you have to tell her," Francis reminded him.

"Oh," Alfred said softly, pulling the card back to himself and looking down to read it. "Miss George wrote 'Alfred's reading and writing has improved over the sem-es-ter, he's best in the class in gym and he's getting better at making new friends. And I got a B in all my tests."

Francis smiled softly, "That's very good Alfred, we're all very proud of you."

"Can we go for a McDonalds now..?" the boy asked tentatively, forcing a weak smile as he looked up at his uncle.

Francis nodded, turning his head to Matt and smiling at the small boy, "Do you want to go and get a McDonalds now or do you want to stay longer?"

"I want to go," Matthew said reluctantly, looking over at his mother's headstone and waving goodbye to it.

"You've said everything you wanted to say?" Francis clarified, the two boys nodding in unison. "Then say goodbye," he instructed.

Matthew waved again, "Bye bye mummy." he whispered, climbing back into Francis' arms and hugging his neck, nuzzling against him.

Francis got to his feet, holding Matthew close to him, "Alfred say goodbye."

Alfred shook his head, "No," he said pointedly, "I don't like saying goodbye, it makes it too sad."

Francis smiled softly and nodded, lowering a hand to ruffle Alfred's hair, "Ok Alfred, you don't have to say it. Let's go and buy a McDonalds, we'll get some for your father too."

"Daddy likes the big burgers," Matthew mumbled softly, "Did mummy like the big burgers? I want to have what mummy liked."

"Of course, Mattie." Francis nodded, "Mummy liked having nuggets, and strawberry milkshake. Do you want to try that?"

Matthew nodded, smiling weakly and letting out a small whispered 'yeah'. Alfred frowned, "I want it too!" he bleated, tugging Francis' sleeve as the older man began to lead them towards the car, "I want nuggets, chicken nuggets are my new favourite."

Francis nodded, "Ok Alfred, you have whatever you want," he smiled at him as he put Matthew in his car seat, helping Alfred into his.

They pulled up at home just over twenty minutes later, bags of food in hand. Francis led them up the steps to their house, unlocking the door and walking in.

"Arthur?" Francis called, "Are you out of bed? We have food."

"We got a McDonalds!" Alfred called gleefully, "We got mommy's favourite," he giggled, taking his bag of food and running to the living room.

"Oh good," they heard Arthur say from his room, "Say, is Amelia with you then? I called but she didn't answer me."

Francis let out a small unhappy huff, "Arthur..." he said quietly, putting Matthew down. "Boys go and eat in the living room, I need to talk to your papa."

He watched the small boy run off after his brother, smiling after him before turning to walk to their father's room, his smile dropping.

"Arthur," he said to the man, still in bed, "We brought food, your favourite burger, maybe it'll help you clear your head."

"Is Amelia out there?" the other man said, dazed.

"I'm not doing this again Arthur, I told you less than two hours ago. Come on."

Arthur shakily got to his feet, squinting as he tried to remember, "She's gone isn't she, my Amelia..? Something happened, and she's gone?"

"That's right Arthur," Francis said calmly, "But your boys still need you, you need to be a father to them, come on." He reached out to take his hand, leading him through to the living room and sitting him down, laying out the food in front of him, "Here Arthur," he said to get his attention, "Eat up."

Arthur chewed his lip slightly, looking down at the food and beginning to pick at it.

He looked up at Matthew and Alfred, watching them eating, smiling softly, he swallowed hard and leant back on his chair, "These are my boys?" he asked softly, his smile widening slightly, "You know your mother used to like chicken nuggets and strawberry milkshake just like that."

"I know papa," Matthew said, nodding and eating more of his chips, "Do you want some papa?"

Arthur nodded, "Oh yes please, uh..." he paused, closing his eyes as he tried to remember the boy's name.

"Matthew," Alfred almost shouted, frowning at his father.

"Matthew," Arthur said again to remind himself, nodding to himself before clearing his throat and continuing his sentence, "Your mother would never let me have any of hers."

Matthew held out a piece of chicken, waiting patiently for his father to take it. The older man held it and looked at it for a moment before eating it, humming and nodding at the taste, "I can see why she liked them."

"Can I have some of your burger papa?" the young boy asked, holding out his hand.

Arthur nodded and held out the burger, letting the child take a small bite.

Matthew chuckled as he returned to his food, looking over at Alfred, who did not look quite so happy. Matthew's laughter fading at the sight of the frown on his brother's face.

"Alfred?" he asked quietly, holding out some of his food, "Did you want some too?"

"No," Alfred almost growled, looking between Matthew and his father. He got to his feet and picked up his food, walking off towards his room and leaving the rest of his family looking between each other seeming somewhat confused.

"I'll go and talk to him," Francis said quietly, he patted Matthew on the shoulder as he walked past, "Eat your food Mattie."

He walked through to the small bedroom that Matthew and Alfred shared, stepping over the piles of clothes and toys on the door to sit on the bed, where Alfred sat crying quietly to himself.

"What's wrong Alfred..?" Francis said quietly, shifting on the bed to face Alfred fully.

"I want mommy back," Alfred squeaked through his tears, "I want her here too," he wiped his eyes, "Daddy doesn't even remember Mattie's name..."

Francis reached over to rub Alfred's back, "Alfred..." he said softly, "You know it's not his fault."

"It is his fault!" Alfred yelled, flinching away from Francis' hand, "He drinks all the time and he makes his memory bad, that's what you told me."

Francis swallowed hard, looking away as he tried to gather himself and plan out what he should say. "That... That is true Alfred, but he drinks because he's ill. And being mad at him isn't going to make him better."

"I can't not be mad," Alfred whined, wiping his eyes again and looking up at his uncle. "I don't feel happy like this."

Francis exhaled slowly, "Alfred, I know, I'm not happy either... I'm trying to make it better for you both, I'm doing all I can to make it better. But it's never going to be perfect. We've got to make the best of what we've got."

Alfred nodded, moving over to hug Francis tightly, "I'm sorry I got mad. I'm trying to make everything happy but it just doesn't work."

"I know... I miss your mother too. She always cheered everyone up, even when your daddy got mad she'd know the right joke to say to make him calm down."

Alfred looked down, beginning to calm as he hugged the older man, nuzzling into him. "Mommy was your sister wasn't she..? That would be like Matt dying for me.."

Francis nodded, hugging the boy tighter, "Yes, but you shouldn't think like that, Alfred, you'll just upset yourself. Now, do you want to come back out to eat or stay in here a little while?"

Alfred shrugged, "I'll come back out, I don't actually like eating in my room..."

"I know you don't, why would you? Look I'll even let you watch the TV when you eat."

Alfred took his food and walked back towards the living room, his eyes on his feet as he walked back to his seat, turning to face and turn on the TV.

Arthur smiled at him from his seat on the sofa as he picked at his food, seeming almost absent, "Alfred, you've grown up so much, you've got to be in school now."

Alfred swallowed hard, nodding and blinking away the tears that had suddenly jumped to his eyes, "Yeah I am daddy, I got my report card a-and I got Bs in everything."

"Oh that's good," Arthur said with a soft smile, reaching out to ruffle Alfred's hair, Alfred accepted the action begrudgingly, "I'm very proud of you Alfred. Is the McDonalds a reward?"

Alfred nodded, raising a shaking hand and wiping his eyes, "Yeah…" he looked up at Francis as if pleading with him to take Arthur's attention away from him, not wanting to continue the repeat of the previous day's conversation.

Francis smiled and rubbed Arthur's back, swallowing hard and pushing the last of his own food towards him, "Arthur, eat up, Alfred's had an exhausting day he doesn't want to talk about it anymore."

**I hope you enjoyed it, please leave a review!**


End file.
